Miranda
by Kelly Tolkien
Summary: A group of seprate ficlets with Ian Howe, the bad guy! and an OC, called Miranda or Mira. Please read and review.
1. Sleep and Truths Told

Okay, this is gonna be a series of Romantic fluffy stories about Ian and my OC. I hope you like this one. If ya do I'll write another one  Sleep and Truths Told 

With a long, drawn out sigh, Ian saved all the open documents and shut down the unnecessary ones. He slouched down the in chair, putting his face in his hands. He rubbed his tired eyes that were red from lack of sleep and staring at the computer. He sighed again and closed his eyes, his head still in his hands.

He heard soft, padding footsteps entering the dark office, moving from where the doorway to the office was, and getting closer to the desk at which he sat. He felt no need to open his eyes or look at who advanced through the darkness because he knew who it was. Only one other person lived in the apartment with him: Miranda. He had known her for a long time, and he loved her deeply. He probably loved her more than she realised. Never had a woman held so much sway over his thoughts and actions before. Miranda did not realise the power that she had over him and he made a point of never showing it or trying not to show it too openly. He would do anything for her. Anything…

Even though he heard her coming, he still twitched slightly as he felt her soft, caressing hands on his shoulders. As she rubbed the pains and aches from his tense shoulders; that had appeared after typing for all of the day, he sighed again in contentment. He heard a soft giggle and felt her lean on his back. She lovingly ruffled his feathery blonde hair and slowly, traced her fingers down his jaw. He slowly exhaled and leant back into her arms.

Miranda walked around in front of him and sat down, straddling over his strong legs to face him looking dangerously alluring in her almost see-through pyjama top. Slowly, blearily he opened his red eyes to look at her. She gave him a concerned look and gently drew her thumb across, under his right eye. He leaned into her touch and tilted his head towards her caressing hand.

"You will come to bed now, wont you?" she said, less so asking more so telling. "If you don't stop working your eyes are going to fall out, Ian."

He smiled at her witty statement and she lovingly wrapped her arms around his neck. He slowly rubbed his left hand up and down her back and buried his face in her beautiful blonde curls. They sat there for a moment, and then Miranda sat back to look at her tired boyfriend. She loved him deeply also, and hoped that the same feeling was returned. As a small girl she had always worried that no one would ever love her. But then boys came and boys went, but Ian was the only man that had come… And the only one that had remained. If he left her now, he would leave her in pieces, and visa versa. The point was, they loved one another but neither felt any great need to get married yet. They were both quite happy with the way things were.

As she regarded him with loving eyes, she lifted a hand to run through his blonde locks. He flinched away as he saw her hand raise through half-closed eyes, but moved back to his original position when he realised he was under no threat and closed his red, tired eyes once more, annoyed in case he had hurt her.

For a long time she had questioned him about his slightly nervous disposition. For several weeks now he had been flinching at her unexpected movements. It had never been like that before. Not before the Declaration of Independence Affair anyway. She wondered and questioned what had happened to make him so… jumpy. But never had he satisfactorily answered, or he changed the subject quickly or pretended he hadn't heard.

As she ran her hand gently through his hair he rested his hands on her slim waist. Miranda lifted her other hand to rest in the crook of his neck. His neck being his weakest spot, she used this information and manipulated his weakness to her own ends. She could make him do anything this way… Anything…

She smiled, rubbing her thumb over the place on his neck where she could feel his pulse… where she could feel it quicken at her touch. Normally, Ian was a calm and collected sort of man and the slow steady pulse and heart rate that he possessed calmed Miranda generally. But sometimes, she felt the need to make his pulse quicken. Some nights she felt… slightly lonely, and she wanted to know that she was needed. She wanted to know that she had some sort of power over Ian, like he did over her. She didn't want the relationship to be boring for him. She wanted him to feel that he didn't always have to do the legwork or be the strong one. She wanted him to know that she would always be there for him and she herself did not want to feel weak and vulnerable.

Of course, not that Ian ever would make her feel like that- apart from in a sensual way. A way that she liked, and a way that **she** was making **him** feel right now. Using the hand that she ran through his hair, she slowly tilted his head back so that she had better access to his neck and throat.

She moved her thumb over his neck and straight down the middle of his throat. Over his Adam's apple and down, only pressing down slightly on his windpipe. She felt him swallow hard and she leant forward, brushing her lips gently over his. She felt his pulse quicken under her hand and smiled. Every so often she liked being in control and whenever there was a chance of this, she went to the ends of the Earth to make it happen since these moments did not come often. Only lately had Ian been showing signs of tiredness and fatigue regularly. She felt that it had something to do with his nervousness also… She was beginning to get worried and wondered what he was keeping so secret from her.

Gradually she moved her hand down to teasingly caress his bear collarbone. He exhaled deeply and shakily, and rubbed his hands over her waist almost absentmindedly, his eyes still closed, head resting on the back of the chair.

She moved her hand further down, unhurriedly pushing the collar of his smart black rugby shirt open. Now the majority of the top half of his muscular chest was exposed to her touch. She kissed him tenderly again, fingering an old scar that ran along his chest with a loving contact. Her other hand had a fistful of his blonde, feathery hair in her grasp, just to make sure he didn't lift his head or resist her touches. Of course she didn't expect him to, even if he had had the energy to resist her he wouldn't have. At the moment he was completely under her control.

She removed her right hand from his exposed chest and entwined it around him to softly caress his back. She lifted the bottom of his rugby shirt up so that she could rub his back with nothing between their contact. Still kissing him deeply she traced each of his ribs, the whole way up and back down again. She began to kiss the side of his throat now, holding even more power over him now than she had before. He shivered under her touch but only rubbed her back in return showing no resistance to her comforting ministrations.

The pair felt no need to go further in the sense of lower regions or Miranda's chest. The intoxicating pull that one had over the other was enough to give them both satisfaction for the night.

The kisses remained gentle as Miranda began to rub calming circles up each of Ian's vertebrae. Then without warning, she stopped, and pulled away from him.

"You will come to bed now, won't you, Ian?" she said, once more telling instead of asking. He nodded in reply and she stood up, offering him her hand, and they walked together to their large bedroom.

When they reached the bed, Miranda turned Ian around so that she stood behind him and began pulling off his clothes, to which he did not protest. Then, when he wore nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts, she pushed him backwards onto the bed. He sat down and rubbed his face with his hands as Miranda disappeared into the shadows.

He didn't see or hear her return… all he felt was an arm around his neck and a warm hand on his chest, pulling backwards. He followed and found himself lying back into Miranda's lap.

He looked up into her eyes, blue orbs that he found he could never look away from. She smiled and began soothingly stroking his hair again and lightly rubbing his lips with her thumb.

"I love you," he said quietly so she could just make it out. She smiled in return and drew her fingers over his eyes so that they closed and leaning forward, whispered in his ear: _Sleep…_

The next morning, Ian slowly awoke feeling slightly less tired than he had been last night, but not completely himself again. He hadn't been himself for weeks and it was beginning to wear him down. What didn't help any more was that work was pilling up and seemed to be never-ending. No matter how long or hard he worked at something, it never seemed to make any difference. The only thing that had been keeping him sane lately was Miranda. She comforted him by just being there, being unconsciously supportive.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked around the room. However, to no avail. He blinked a few times to clear the fuzzy blanket that seemed to cover the world, and then everything became clear. One thing that did not become clear, in spite of his blinking was where Miranda was. He did not lie beside him and the apartment was still completely in darkness, the thick curtains keeping out all traces of sunlight that would otherwise enter the bedroom.

No lights were on and he could hear no movement from anywhere. Panic would be the wrong word to use, but fear and dread crept into him for an unexplained reason. He knew that there would be a perfectly logical explanation for Miranda's absence but all reason seemed to have left him. His eyes searched the room again, even though he knew that she was not there. He strained his ears to hear something, but there was no sound to break the creeping silence.

"You're awake already?" came a voice from the doorway. Ian jumped and his eyes shot towards the door. Seeking out Miranda's silhouette, he sighed and lay back down from the propped up position he had held before on his elbow.

"I wondered where you'd went to," Ian said closing his eyes and trying to relax. All the rest that he had gotten had just been obliterated in the last few seconds. He felt as if he had run a marathon.

"I was just in the kitchen…" she replied walking back into the room silently.

"You were very quiet about it…" Ian replied looking towards Miranda. She kneeled on top of the bed and looked down at him.

"Well. I'm here now, and I'm fine," she smiled. She leant over and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from his eyes tenderly.

Now was as good a time as any, wasn't it? Miranda decided that now was the time to find out why he was so jumpy and nervous lately. They had been together a long time and she thought that they should hold each other in high enough confidence to trust each other with their secrets. But she expected that with Ian's past record, he had quite a few dirty secrets hidden beneath the surface. She felt she wouldn't have to dig very far to find them. It would just be getting him to tell her. He had never been very good with trusting people… even her with secrets. No matter how big or small.

She decided.

She swung her leg over his waist so that she sat on top of him. She was no featherweight but he could still move her if he wanted to. She would need to start with a soft approach. She resolved that the only way to get her off would be to throw her off, and she hoped that he loved her enough not to risk hurting her. She knew he loved her, but did he love her enough to trust her with secrets he didn't want to tell?

"Okay, Ian. You trust me, don't you?" she said flicking her hair back away from her face.

He looked at her, surprised and confused before answering.

"Of course."

"Will then I think that it is time that you stopped avoiding the issue? You knew that it would come to this sooner or later surely. You know that I am not one to just sit back and worry and not do something about it, don't you?"

Ian sighed and looked away from her. He knew exactly what was coming next, and he had a feeling that she wasn't going to let him wriggle out of telling this time. But how desperately he didn't want her to know…

"I trust you know what I'm talking about?" Miranda asked.

Ian nodded still not looking her in the face. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately.

"You should know that you can tell me anything by now…"

"Yes I do, but I'd rather not tell you," he said sitting up, but Miranda resolutely pushed him back down again.

"You've been tired and weary and not yourself since you came back from that week in jail. Plus you've been as nervous as hell. **What **happened?" she said, taking a firm hold of his wrists and holding them on the bed, just to make a point.

She wasn't in any way adequately restraining him. With his well-toned arms and chest he could throw her off him at any time and she knew that. She was just trying to get her point across. To make sure he knew that she wanted to know for his own good.

"I haven't been nervous. I don't know what you're talking about Mira," he said. Using her nickname.

She made a sudden movement with her arm as if to hit him. As much as he tried his natural reactions took control and he flinched.

"NOT NERVOUS?" she was shouting now. But not out of anger, it was out of fear for the love of her life.

"YOU FLINCH AT ANY SUDDEN MOVES I MAKE! YOU PULL AWAY WHEN I TRY TO TOUCH YOU, you are not yourself. What is going on, Ian? What happened in that week?" Miranda asked, letting go of one of his wrists to brush another lock of shaggy hair from his face.

"Why is it important? Does it really matter to you?"

"Yes! I love you; I want to know everything about you. I want to be able to help you with your problems."

"You can't help with this."

"I can try. Can't I. There's no harm in trying. Now trust me, as you once did." Miranda said sitting back to give him some space.

"Whenever you have a reputation in the criminal community like mine… well… " Miranda nodded encouragement. This is the furthest she had ever gotten and she wasn't about to let him stop now.

"You can be pretty well known. Infamous, almost. And… when you get put into a medium security prison, things don't always go your way…"

Miranda was still confused. She had a feeling about what he was getting to, but she didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

"Please elaborate."

"Not all thieves are friends with all other thieves. Not all cops are neutral, even though the bastards are supposed to be. Lets suffice to say I wasn't too popular around the place… With anyone. Not even Victor or Phil. They weren't too fond of me either after I got them chucked in prison. It was pure fluke that the court had no real evidence to sentence me."

Now everything made sense to Miranda. Flinching would be a natural reaction after being beat-up continually for a week. She doubted he would have slept very well since he was not the only occupant of the cell…

And his explanation brought a memory to her mind that had previously vacated the premises;

There was a knock on the door. Miranda had no need to wonder whom it was. She had been waiting for him all morning, after getting the phone call that he had been released without charge, she had ran madly around the apartment doing her best to tidy it as she had neglected her cleaning activities that past week out of worry.

_She opened the door and saw the smile and immediately jumped into his arms. Unwanted tears began to fall from her eyes. She felt like such a whimp. But she had been so worried about whether he would be found guilty or not._

_He hugged her back and she pulled away. She noticed a slightly pained look on his face._

"_Is something wrong?" she had asked. _

_He shook his head and smiled, the pain expression leaving his features and his hand dropping from his ribs where they had been._

"_No. Of course not. I just missed you that's all," he had reassured her. And in her joy, she had thought nothing more of that small happening, but now it was relevant._

Now it all made sense. She leant forward and touched the cut that ran over his eyebrow and dangerously close to his left eye. It had been there from he returned. She expected it was just something that he had gotten on his journey. She had asked and he had confirmed this thought. "_Just a scratch," _he had said. It's never just a scratch.

"I take it that's how this happened?" she said. "Can I maybe see your whole chest now? And your ribs? In the light?"

Before he had as nonchalantly as possible not let her eyes fall upon his naked upper body in any decent light.

She reached to pull off his shirt, but he grabbed her hands.

"_Lights?" She had walked over and turned out the lights._

_By the time she had returned he had taken his shirt off himself. She could not see him properly in the darkness. It hadn't mattered then…_

"Why? It's just a few bruises. Nothing special." She looked at him. "If you must," Ian answered.

She moved back slightly so she could pull down the white cotton covers…

The bedcovers revealed a battered and still bruised torso. There were large patched of purple bruising positioned over his ribs. There were cuts on his chest, only beginning to heal properly now.

She moved her fingers lightly over his torso. She had the same control over him again as she had last night. But this time for the wrong reasons.

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped."

"How?" he asked sceptically.

"Well for a start I could have refrained from doing this," she said leaning forward so that all her weight was on his bruised body. He gasped and put his hands on her waist, trying not to squeeze. She then rolled about a bit; moving and recreating the movements she had made a few nights before, referring to their night of passion.

He gasped and tried to push her off. She got up and looked sadly down at him.

"You must have been in agony… And you didn't tell me?" she said, a slightly hurt edge to her voice.

"There was-… You had enough on your mind already… With your wee sister in hospital and your job and your boss going AWOL. I didn't want to add something else to your list of problems."

She smiled slightly at him.

"Okay. Lets forget about it now."

"I agree," Ian replied. She got off him and lay beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, she ran her fingers over a few of the cuts and bruises lightly. Ian watched her hand, not worriedly, unconcernedly.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all?

**Okay, so it's not perfect. I know that, it's just I love Ian and I want to be Miranda! But I'm not **

**Oh well. Will you pleaseeeeeeee review? Please, just for me. And then I shall post the next chapter as soon as possible.**


	2. Happy Returns

Yes guys, this ficlett is set before the first one… Happy Returns 

Miranda stood at the airport. The wind blew her hair all around her and she felt a cold seep into her bones. She shivered and shook her head, folding her arms across herself; she began to rub her arms to try to keep them warm…

It didn't work. She looked up impatiently. How long did it take to land? She searched the skies for the sight of the black private jet that was due to be landing any minute now. She had asked someone in the Airport and they had told her that the flight was running on time; no interruptions were a perk of having a private jet. Maybe she was just being pernickety and impatient. It was only noon now, and he wasn't due until now.

She gave up searching the skies as the glare of the noon sun was in her eyes and she had left her shades in the Ferrari. Unfortunate. The wind blew hard again, and suddenly, her light air force blue combats and small grey camisole top seemed a totally inadequate form of protection against the biting wind. It was always windy at airports.

She looked up to the sky again and with a smile noticed a black shape getting closer. She stamped her feet to keep herself warm and willed the pilot to fly faster. Unfortunately, she had also left her amazing telepathic mind powers in the glove box of the Ferrari, along with her sunglasses and tic tacs. Damn, she hoped her breath was fresh. She nervously breathed into her hand and smelt. Not bad…

The jet drew closer, and after what seemed like forever, the small plane rolled to a stop, and the door rolled down into a set of steps. No one emerged for a while and then a form exited. She squinted over to the doorway and saw that it was only Shaw, one of Ian's partners in crime. Literally.

Next emerged Victor slowly looking around himself and then making his way down the steps. Then FINALLY! She saw the form of her boyfriend, or unofficial fiancée as she liked to think of him and dashed away from the glass window that she stood at. As she left the small cover from the wind the building gave her, she nearly got blown over by a strong gust. It seemed to take forever but she finally reached his waiting arms.

Miranda hit Ian so hard that he almost fell over. Almost, but all those years if Tai Chi and Kickboxing left him with a steady stance and good balance.

Miranda buried her face in the crook of his neck and felt like bursting into hysterical laughter as the perfect and distinctive smell of Ian washed over her. She buried her nose against his navy T-Shirt and felt pure happiness flow through her veins.

Ian's companions laughed at his girlfriends display, but she didn't care. Plus they were all friends and they were less laughing at her more with her… She hoped.

"Yeah, well at least I have a girlfriend Shaw, more than you have achieved," Ian teased.

The pair walked across the blacktop slightly behind the rest of the group. Miranda had her arms looped tightly about Ian's waist still. He put one arm around her shoulders and rubbed her bare arm.

"You're cold," he said, squeezing her to himself more tightly.

The bantering continued the whole way to the car. Miranda firmly held onto Ian's waist, refusing to let go. Ever.

When they reached the car park, the group split and went their separate ways, Miranda still clinging to Ian's waist.

They arrived in front of the car and Ian looked down at her.

"You'll have to let go sometime," he said with a loving smile.

"I don't wanna!" replied Miranda closing her eyes and clinging onto him with both arms now. He ruffled her blonde hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I'll drive," she looked up at him and then with an exaggerated pouted lip released Ian and walked round to the passenger door.

When they arrived back at their apartment, they found all baggage already delivered by the well-paid airport staff.

Ian walked to the window and looked out over the stretching motorways and never-ending roads of London. Buses drove, cars sped along, bicycle bells tinkled and people chatted as they walked along the footpath.

As he surveyed this sight, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. He put his hands on top of hers and rubbed gentle soothing circles on her hands.

"So, anything amazing happen while I was away?" Ian asked, still looking out over London.

"Nope. Not a thing. All was quiet on the home front. How about you? How did the treasure hunting go?"

"Not bad. A bit more information would have been a welcome visitor but it decided to stay at home. We found out a few things that will be helpful in the long run. Just not yet. We will find it…" he said the last part almost to himself.

Miranda tightened her grip and reassured; "Of course you will!" She stood on her tiptoes, as she was only 5'2 and Ian was 5'11, and kissed the side of his neck.

He smiled and sighed contentedly.

"Have you been eating while you were away?" she asked, being able to feel each rib in his rib cage.

"Of course I have…"

"Em. Then why can I feel your ribs?" she said poking them to emphasise her point.

"Well, would you rather I was 38 stone and you couldn't feel my ribs at all through the fat?"

Miranda walked around the front of him, keeping her hands on his waist the whole time. She gave him a look that said "_DUH!" _and kissed him on the lips this time.

She took to steps back after pulling away from their kiss and regarded him closely. He looked back at her with one eyebrow raised and she couldn't help laughing.

"Did I ever tell you I love your hair?" she asked, running her hand through his feathery blonde locks.

"No you failed to mention it…" Ian replied looking at her strangely. She was coming out with more and more random things lately. For example she had taken to randomly quoting 'Dracula Dead and Loving It", one of her favourite comedy films. (A/N: And one of mine )

"Well then… I love your hair!" she said ruffling it more. "Especially when it's like that… Nice…" She said, regarding her careful work, sticking her tongue out in concentration.

Ian laughed at the constipated look that graced her soft features and lifted her small frame and 7 ½ stone body of the floor and into his arms, cradling her like a groom would a bride over the threshold.

She threw her arms around his neck and let her head fall back. With a sigh she closed her eyes, and the constipated look was replaced by a look of contentment.

Over the last week, while Ian had been away on Treasure Hunting Business, she had sorely missed him. She hadn't been able to sleep well as she was used to having his arm draped over her in an almost lazy but loving fashion. She missed his kisses and embraces throughout the day. Hell, she missed his very presence in the house. The sophisticated grace that the house seemed to hold while he resided there;

While he had been gone she had been walking into things and dropped her SONY WALKMAN MP3 Player TWICE! Jesus, 20GB of music on there and it could have been wiped! THE HORROR!

The office had lost its tidy and neat look. Nothing was in its place anymore and the computer needed defragmented and scanned with AVG and Ad- Aware. She didn't have a clue in hell about what all that meant, she just knew it needed to be done.

The apartment that was reasonably large that they both shared, was pretty much a mess. She hoped that Ian didn't feel the need to open any cupboards that day since the rather rushed spring-clean that she had earlier executed comprised of stuffing things away anywhere that they would fit. She even resorted to putting dirty washing in the drawer of the coffee table. She hoped he didn't need anything out of there either.

He carried her into the Living room and playfully dropped her on the black, leather sofa that was the most comfortable thing that Mira's butt had ever had the pleasure of residing on top of.

She grabbed the remote as he flopped down beside her and turned on the best and least intellectual show on Earth… The Simpsons!

She rested her head on his shoulder and put her hand on his chest and wrapped her right leg around his so that she was thoroughly entangled in him.

After the 4 consecutive episodes of the Simpsons they watched;

Frasier, Buffy, Futurama, Angel, a programme on National Geographic about Constructions, Pimp My Ride, Orange County Choppers, Long Way Round and for the closing ceremony;

Dracula Dead and Loving It.

So, all in all, it had been a pretty cool day, with Happy Returns mixed in the middle.


	3. Chapter 3

**I Don't Know What To Name This Chapter So I'll Call It This.**

The group looked down. The shaft seemed endless, a continuous void of black and dust. A vortex, that was ready to suck in anyone who took his or her chances with the termite eaten pathway that lined the inside of the shaft and lead the way into the depths of night.

Mira looked down the long shaft and clutched the wooden rail in her fists tighter. Unfortunately, because of 200 years of rot it crumbled in her hands and she would have fallen had Ian not grabbed the back of her grey fleece.

"Please be careful…" Ian warned her as he pulled her away from the edge. "I would prefer it if you didn't fall."

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat at her near encounter with Old Bony. As they traversed their way down the rickety structure, she held Ian's hand tightly. When she thought about it later, she realised that she had probably been cutting off the circulation, but he hadn't said anything about it. For that she was thankful.

Although she wasn't totally happy with the way that events were going, and the hostility that seemed to be thick in the air in the group of Hunters, she knew that Ian and Shaw knew what they were doing and not to question their judgement.

Ben's father was going first. She wasn't happy with that. Though she would never admit it, she liked the old man. He had character, more than Ben did anyway.

To tell the truth, she didn't get the whole Treasure Hunting thing. She only came this time because Ian told her that he could be gone for around a month this time and she didn't want to damage the apartment permanently. Plus she would have missed him too much. But now that she looked down the walkway and followed the winding path with her gaze she was beginning to think that maybe she should have risked the apartment.

There was a cracking sound and everyone in the party flinched and looked down to see if it had been from under their feet. Then everyone looked ahead, realising that the sound had come from in front.

"Watch your step," Ben's father's voice echoed sarcastically almost. Mira looked down and saw the plank of treacherous wood disappearing down the shaft.

Ian looked back at her. She couldn't quite read his expression but she knew that he was worried about her… somehow.

She squeezed his hand tighter if that was possible and nodded confidently to try to assure him with a confidence that she didn't possess herself. But it seemed to satisfy Ian and he nodded once in return and looked back ahead.

The group continued further down the pathway, weaving and winding, ducking under rope-like cobwebs that stretched across the width of the walkway.

Then, without warning, there was a huge sound that echoed and seemed to go on forever. Mira couldn't differentiate between the real sound and the echo.

"OH GOD SHAW! NO **SHAW!" **she heard a familiar voice shout. It was only after a few seconds that she realised that it was Ian's. Once again she watched a shape disappear into the darkness.

"Shit," she said quietly. That would really piss Ian off, she knew. Now he would turn into the psychotic bad guy. She knew him long enough to be able to tell. She was worried. She knew that she might be on the Bad Guy's side, but it didn't matter to her, because she loved the bad guy.

Right then and there Mira decided that all her life she had been far too safe and she was going to do something about it right now… From now on she would live on the edge. However not literally, as right now this would be a fatal mistake, but she was talking metaphorically.

"Keep moving," she heard a voice say, but she was too wrapped up in her own thought of living life on the edge to pay attention to who said it.

They moved on and before long she heard another loud creaking and snapping sound. This time she felt her stomach fall away from under her. She knew what she was standing on was falling. Once again she felt Ian pulling her up and she found she was standing on the thin edge of the walkway that was now hanging down into the shaft vertically. It was beginning to part company from the wall.

Somehow, her and Ian ended up safely on the elevator that hung down near the centre of the shaft. There was some form of commotion further down below where Mira had seen Ben and Abigail disappear.

Victor, who was on the elevator pulley system, lowered the group down. They stopped opposite Ben and Abigail.

"**Get on**, " Shaw said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

"Ian… It's not worth it," Ben said through pants, shaking his head trying to dissuade Ian. Mira knew by the manner of Ian that no one could do that now. Probably not even her.

"Do you honestly think that any of your lives are as important to me as Shaw's was?" Ian asked sceptically. Ben looked at his feet knowing the answer. There was silence in the group and no one dared move a muscle. The tension that hung in the air could have been cut with a knife.

"**Get on,**" Ian repeated making a gesture towards the elevator.

The group obeyed and got onto the lift.

**Okay, I know that this ficlett was kind of pointless but I wanted to show that Mira wasn't a complete Mary Sue or someone who just sat back and watched. And I wanted you to know that she will stick with Ian through everything as she says with the thought _but she loved the bad guy_ so…**

**Just trying make a point. The next one will have more fluff I promise.**


	4. No I'm Not

"No I'm not…" 

**A Visit**

"Come in for a sec…"

"No really, it's fine…"

"No, come on, I'll only be a minute…"

"Yes, so it would be pointless for me to come in…"

"Come on…"

"No really, I'm fine right here…"

"You'll get kidnapped…"

"I'll be fine… I'm too old to get kidnapped…"

"You'll get gorgeous-man-napped then…"

"I promise I will not get stolen away in any shape or form…"

"Why are you so scared of coming in?"

"Are you hungry?"

"What? No, you can't answer my question with another question…"

"I thought it was a rhetorical question…"

"Bollocks, come on…"

"No, no, rhetorical question, I'm fine…"

"I didn't ask if you were fine…"

"I meant I'm fine here…"

"Your fine everywhere… in the sense of gorgeous that is…"

"Thank you, but I feel no need to enter your parent's home…"

"You're scared of her, aren't you…"

"What? No!"

"Ever since that time-"

"I'm not scared of your mother… Now piss off and go get your laptop…"

"You **ARE!** scared of her!"

"NO I'M NOT!"

"WELL COME IN THEN!"

"FINE!"

Mira laughed a laugh of triumph as Ian got out of the Ferrari and followed her up her parent's garden path.

"Knew you'd come eventually," she giggled wrapping her arm around his waist.

He muttered something inaudible in reply and rolled his eyes. She knocked on the door and fiddled with a bit of Ian's hair absent-mindedly as her eyes scanned the porch.

They heard footsteps and Mira's father came to the door.

"Hi daddy!" she said cheerfully and lifted a hand.

"Hi Miranda! Hi Ian. Haven't seen you about for a while…"

"Yeah, well, you know Mr Simmons. Work's been a bit hectic lately…" Ian replied removing his sunglasses and shrugging.

"Oh God yeah I know. And please call me Gene… Come in, come in…"

"Well, that was eventful…" Ian said, throwing the towel he had been using to dry Mira's hair into the back seat.

The pair had been minding their own business, standing by the pool while Mira's mother had gone upstairs to get her laptop. It was then that Bonso made his appearance. Mira's dog that had been **_VERY _**pleased to see Miranda back had come barrelling out of the patio doors.

He had jumped up, knocked Mira in the stomach, which made her loose her balance, stumble to the edge of the pool and fall in… of course… pulling Ian with her.

A visit to her parent's house was always eventful…


End file.
